LOVE ISLAND MADNESS
episode 5: RAUNCHY BUSINESS
episode 4 here! (not proofread sorryyy)
౨ৎ thank you guys so freaking much for 100 followers :3
The villa woke to the smell of something good.
Not drama. Not Zara’s perfume. But…Cinnamon?
You turned over to find Choso in the kitchen, shirtless, carefully plating two slices of French toast with a side of fruit. His brows were furrowed in deep focus, his hair tied up half-done, and a single chain hung low around his neck.
“Mornin,” he murmured when he caught you watching, voice husky and low.
“Morning,” you replied, stepping closer.
He nudged a plate toward you. “I hope you like strawberries.”
You did. You liked them a lot more now.
Leaning against the counter, still in your oversized sleep shirt. “You keep feeding me like this, and I’m gonna start thinking you like me.”
He blinked, then looked away slightly, ears tinted the faintest red. “Maybe I do.”
You didn’t reply. Just smiled to yourself and took a bite.
Someone get [❀] a bib, ‘cause Choso’s serving more than just breakfast.
Elsewhere in the villa, Zara was straddling Gojo’s lap on the sun lounger like the ink hadn’t even dried on the recoupling board yet. Gojo’s hands lazily rested on her thighs as he whispered something that made her giggle.
You caught the scene from across the patio. Choso glanced in the same direction, then looked at you instead.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Of course.” You smiled, brushing a crumb off your lip.
But you were watching. You clocked how Gojo kept glancing at you. Like Zara wasn’t sitting on him. Like he didn’t just say all that firepit fluff.
Just when the tension was building…the producers said, “Let’s get raunchy.”
A text went off.
📱 GIRLS: It’s time to get messy. Head to the front lawn for today’s challenge: RAUNCHY RACES. The boys are your competition. Game on. #KissAndTell #AwkwardPairings #FirepitOrFrenzy
RAUNCHY RACES
Let the chaos begin.
Two rows of podiums were set up: boys on one side, girls on the other. Obstacle courses. Lube. Props. Costume trunks. Tongue-twister cards and body paint. A chaos cocktail.
The rules? Simple.
Perform the task. Beat the opposing team. Avoid catching feelings.
(Just kidding. You’re on Love Island—everyone’s catching feelings.)
ROUND ONE: “Kiss the Islander Who’s Most Your Type”
Screams. Whistles. Immediately, boys and girls started sprinting in opposite directions.
You didn’t hesitate—you walked with intention.
Choso’s eyes widened when you stopped in front of him.
“Me?” he asked quietly, blinking.
You tilted your head, smiling. “You gonna complain?”
He shook his head just once, before you leaned in and kissed him.
It started soft, slow—more than just a peck. His hands ghosted your waist for a second, then gripped just slightly. You kissed him like the world had gone quiet around you. When you pulled back, Choso looked dazed.
“…Damn,” Sasha whispered from the sidelines.
“Girls get the point!” the host called out
ROUND TWO: “Lap Dance for the Opposing Team”
Before anyone could breathe, you strutted across the garden—straight to Toji.
He arched a brow, arms spread like a king. “Didn’t expect you to be this bold.”
“You haven’t seen bold yet.”
You pushed him back into a sun lounger and climbed into his lap like it was built for you. The beat from the speakers thumped as you moved your hips, slowly rolling into a grind, hand resting on his chest to keep your balance. Toji leaned back, grinning like a menace.
Gojo’s jaw flexed. Sasha let out an “ooh?” and even Choso looked like he didn’t know where to look.
When the horn blew again, you stood like nothing happened and dusted off your thighs.
“Point to the girls!”
ROUND THREE: “Pass the Ice Cube”
You ended up in a line between Geto and Choso.
When it got to you, Choso bent close, eyes flicking to your lips. The ice clinked between your mouths, but his breath was warm, and for a second, you forgot it was a challenge.
Geto dropped the cube trying not to look directly at you two.
“Whoops,” you said, stepping aside with a grin.
ROUND FOUR: Lick whipped cream off the Islander who makes your heart race.
Gojo moved fast. Too fast.
You were mid-turn when he was suddenly in front of you, a grin plastered on his face, holding the whipped cream canister.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, spraying some on his neck. “You know you’ve missed me.”
Before you could retort, he leaned in, lips near your ear. “Make it count.”
You did lick it off—but you didn’t break eye contact. Let him think it meant something.
The girls screamed. Zara raised a brow but said nothing.
ROUND FIVE:“Bite the clothes off the Islander you’re most curious about.”
Toji bit the hem of your top, but you swatted him away. “Pick someone else, grandpa.”
He leaned back with a dramatic scoff. “Watch your mouth before I show you why cougars love me.”
The villa hollered.
You strutted past him with a smirk, zero apologies.
Choso’s face turned red when you stopped in front of him again. “You mind?”
He blinked. “N-No.”
You dropped to your knees with exaggerated slowness, your fingers grazing his thighs as you leaned in. The tie on his swim trunks was snug—but your teeth caught it with ease. You tugged, just enough to loosen the knot, dragging your lips along the waistband like a tease.
Choso’s entire body tensed, jaw tight, eyes locked on you like you were the only person on Earth.
Choso just… sat there stunned, ears red
After the challenge, everyone collapsed around the firepit, breathless and flushed.
The girls won.
Toji raised a bottle of sparkling water like a trophy. “Rematch tomorrow,” he said.
Laughter bubbled, but your attention drifted—Gojo was watching you again.
You didn’t give him the satisfaction. You turned back to Choso, brushing your fingers against his wrist where it rested between you. He looked down at your hand, then back up at you, quiet but sure.
“You’re really good at games,” he murmured.
You leaned in. “That a compliment?”
“Yeah. But I don’t think you’re playing with me.”
You didn’t answer—just gave him a look. Something soft. Something honest.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The villa had that hush about it — the kind that only settles once all the mess and games are over. Pillows tossed, and heels kicked off.
But you? You were curled up on the daybed outside, the warm glow from the overhead fairy lights dusting your skin like honey. Your legs were tucked under you, arms around your knees, sipping on a glass of something fruity and strong when you heard the softest shuffle of steps.
You didn’t even have to turn. You already knew.
Choso.
He always moved like that careful, quiet, like he was trying not to take up too much space even when he had every right to.
“Thought you might still be out here,” he murmured.
His voice was low, almost shy, and when you glanced over your shoulder, he was standing there with a bowl in his hands and that same little almost-smile that made your chest tighten.
“What’s that?”
He walked closer, still not sitting until you scooted to make room. “Fruit. You didn’t eat much after the challenge. Thought I’d bring you something.”
You blinked, and your heart might’ve flipped. “You brought me fruit?”
He shrugged, eyes on the bowl like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the villa. “Couldn’t sleep anyway.”
You smiled — slow and soft — and leaned just a little into him. “You’re sweet.”
His ears tinged pink at that, but he held out the bowl and looked at you from beneath his lashes. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I like sweet,” you murmured, plucking a piece and brushing your fingers against his as you did. “Especially when it comes in a six-foot-tall, emotionally constipated package.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“You did good today, by the way,” you added. “In the challenge.”
Choso’s thumb brushed his lower lip — a nervous tell. “Didn’t think I’d be the one getting my shorts bitten today…”
He looked away, ears tinted red. “…but I wasn’t mad at it.”
And there it was — that shy half-smile again, just barely curled at the corner of his mouth.
The two of you sat there, just like that — close, quiet, with the bowl of fruit between your legs and the ocean breeze drifting in off the pool. He was so warm beside you, and even though he wasn’t touching you much, you could feel him.
But then, slowly, his hand slid behind you — resting against the back of the daybed cushion — and your shoulders brushed.
“You looked good today,” he said after a long pause.
Your gaze slid sideways. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His eyes flicked to your lips, then away just as fast. “Hard not to look at you.”
You let the silence stretch for a moment, then leaned into his side a little more — head brushing his shoulder.
“You can touch me, y’know,” you said softly, teasing. “We’re coupled up now. Comes with the territory.”
He swallowed, quiet, then finally let his fingers drift to your thigh — gentle, warm, like he was still unsure you’d let him stay there.
You didn’t stop him.
Didn’t move away.
Just sat there under the stars, with your body leaning into his and his hand resting on your leg, the fruit long forgotten in your lap.
And even though it wasn’t a kiss, wasn’t a full-on confession, it felt like something.
You let out a breath, soft and a little shaky, blinking slowly as the firepit flickered behind Choso’s silhouette. The air between you both had shifted—warmer now, heavier with things unspoken.
You glanced down, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. “We should probably go inside,” you murmured, voice gentle. “It’s getting late.”
Choso didn’t move right away. Just studied you for a second longer, like he wanted to remember this exact version of you—eyes soft, expression unreadable, still close enough to touch.
Then he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
You stood first, smoothing your dress as he followed you back toward the villa, his hand brushing against yours once, twice—until on the third time, you laced your fingers with his.
The villa was quiet when you entered, just faint laughter from another room and the hush of ocean wind through the open windows. You padded into the shared bedroom with Choso behind you, and finally released his hand.
“Give me two seconds,” you said, flashing him a sleepy smile before grabbing your clothes and stepping into the bathroom.
He waited. Sat at the edge of the bed, absently tugging the rings on his fingers while you rinsed your face and peeled off your dress. You swapped it for something softer—an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts.
“You good?” you asked gently.
Choso looked up. His eyes scanned you for a moment, lingering where your thighs peeked from beneath the hem of your shirt—but not in a way that felt heavy. It was quiet awe. Like he didn’t expect softness to look this good on you.
“You look…” He cleared his throat. “Comfy.”
You laughed. “You thought I was gonna sleep in that little dress?”
“I dunno,” he said, lips twitching. “Kinda figured you were bold like that.”
“I’m bold,” you teased. “Not uncomfortable.”
He smiled then—just a small one—and you crossed the room back to him, bonnet in hand. “Hey… you offered before. Wanna help?”
He blinked. “With that?”
“You said next time you’d help me put it on.”
His ears tinted pink. “Right. Yeah.”
You passed it over and turned around, settling between his knees on the edge of the bed. His fingers found your braids again, slow and careful. He smoothed your hair down and tugged the bonnet on with the gentlest touch.
“Too tight?” he asked near your ear.
You shook your head. “No. Feels nice.”
There was a pause. The warmth from his body pressed against your back, his hands hesitating like he didn’t want to move away.
“You always let people get this close?” he murmured.
You turned slightly. “Only the ones who actually mean it.”
And there it was again—that stillness in him, thick with something unspoken. He reached for the covers, voice barely above a whisper.
“Come lay down. I’ll be good.”
You crawled under the sheets first, and he joined you, settling behind you with an arm gently curled around your waist. His hand rested against your stomach, fingers twitching like he wanted to pull you closer but didn’t want to push.
Your fingers found his forearm under the blanket. You let them stay there, slow and soft.
And in that quiet, the air between you felt different.
Something real.
Something yours.
Choso’s not loud. But he’s consistent. And the quiet ones? They always leave the loudest marks. And just like that, another day in the villa closes with a bang—literally and emotionally. Who’s falling, who’s faking, and who’s catching feelings faster than Choso’s soft stares?
Stay tuned..
TAGLIST- @stardollwrites @not-aya @t4naiis @wettbaby @manifestingly @liyahskindaweird @exepelia-chan @socutesotall @garden0fyves
next episode will probably be a filler episode i REALLY need to get in depths with the other couples💔 (lowkey forgot about them)
